Chapter 336: _Not A Fan Of Leading

"Rose, I think you’re overthinking this. You’d do great as—"

"Don’t tell an overthinker not to overthink."

"You were literally whining on the drive here. You thought I wouldn’t make any comments?"

Ambrose pouted, arms folded as he looked out of the car’s window. They’d just left the PTA meeting—after being told they’ll be updated on the board’s decision about Ambrose’s idea.

Only one teensy problem with that.

He loathed the idea of leading any school-related activities. Scratch that... he loathed the idea of being in charge of anyone at all.

Too much responsibility.

Yet he wasn’t able to let the parents or teachers know that, especially after they gave him a heartwarming round of applause.

"Ugh." He groaned. "I guess... I guess this is all for Orion anyway. I’m glad I was able to stop the teachers and parents from looking at us like trouble incarnate."

"See? It’s a good thing, and you’ve got this." Devon patted him lightly on his shoulder. "And Orion’s going to be so proud of his daddy once he finds out about this."

"Yeah, yeah."

They finally got in front of their compound gate, which was already open. Ambrose’s eyes narrowed at that.

Standing outside with his back leaning against a sleek icy blue Ferrari was Viktor, who smiled watching Orion running across the lawn, playing with a LEGO space craft.

"Wanna make bets on what that car is doing in our driveway?" Devon’s lips twisted knowingly as he looked over at Ambrose.

The Guide only rolled his eyes. "I’ve already got an obvious idea..."

Devon eased the car into the driveway before shifting it into park.

The engine had barely gone silent when a familiar squeal split through the afternoon air.

"Daddy!"

Ambrose had only one foot outside before a tiny blur launched itself at him.

"Oof!" He laughed as Orion collided with his stomach, nearly knocking him back against the car door. "Someone’s extra excited."

"I missed you!" Orion wrapped both arms around his waist, squeezing with every ounce of strength a six-year-old could muster. "How was the PTA meeting? Papa texted and said you were fighting teachers!"

Devon rounded the front of the car with an exaggerated frown. "Oh." His shoulders slumped dramatically. "So this is how it is now. You only hug Daddy while Papa’s left aside."

The little boy gasped as though he’d just committed an unforgivable crime.

"Oh no!" He let go of Ambrose immediately, little legs pumping as he sprinted toward Devon. "Papa! Of course, I missed you too."

"There we go." Devon crouched just in time to catch the flying child, lifting him effortlessly onto one arm. "I was beginning to think I’d been replaced with..." he shuddered, cutting Viktor a look. "... Your uncle Viktor."

"You can’t be replaced!" Orion declared with complete seriousness. "Daddy cries when you’re gone."

Ambrose nearly choked. "I have literally never—"

"I’ll treasure those words forever." Devon looked entirely too pleased with himself.

"You can’t seriously think—Devon, that sounds like something you’d do, now that I think about it. Am I wrong?"

"Meh. I plead the fifth on that one."

Chuckling under his breath, Ambrose followed them beyond the front gate where Viktor waited.

The ice Prince looked as immaculate as ever, dressed in a crisp white shirt rolled neatly at the sleeves, sunglasses resting atop his snow-white hair.

He straightened the moment they approached.

"Welcome home, little bird."

Ambrose barely got the chance to greet him before his attention drifted toward the gleaming vehicle parked behind him.

"Hold on." He slowed. "Just out of curiosity, whose Ferrari is that?"

Viktor glanced over his shoulder as though only just remembering it existed.

"Oh. It’s mine, of course."

Ambrose stared.

Devon sighed.

"I knew that ’oh’ was coming."

"So I was right," Ambrose murmured.

Viktor frowned faintly. "I figured I couldn’t keep waiting for Devon whenever I needed transportation. So I bought one."

Ambrose slowly looked the Ferrari up and down.

The metallic blue paint reflected the afternoon sun almost painfully.

Even without knowing much about luxury cars, he knew this thing screamed money.

"I don’t even want to know how much you spent."

"I don’t recommend asking."

Devon snorted. "You’d probably lose sleep, Rose."

"Yep. I still stir at night anytime I remember the price for this house."

Orion, meanwhile, had already climbed down from Devon’s arms and was circling the Ferrari like it was some mythical creature.

"It looks fast."

"It is."

"Can I drive it?"

"No."

"What about tomorrow?"

Viktor actually considered it. "Still no."

Orion sighed with disappointment. "It was worth a shot."

Ambrose shook his head, smiling despite himself. "Where’s everyone else?"

Viktor slipped his hands into his pockets.

"Valentine went back to his penthouse for the afternoon, Loki received some summons from the Pantheon—"

"The Pantheon?"

"They claimed it was urgent." Viktor shrugged. "Something about Hunter politics. I don’t know, I stopped listening when they were explaining."

"Ah, fair."

"And Gabriel..." The ice Prince hesitated. "He got a call."

Ambrose looked up. "From?"

"...His parents."

Everything inside him froze.

"Oh. Why were they calling? Did he go back to Canada or...?"

Viktor shook his head once. "They’re here in Aurelia."

The smile slipped clean off Ambrose’s face.

Images flashed uninvited through his mind.

Gabriel’s mother, her cold stare when he mentioned having ’boyfriends’. The disbelief.

The way she’d looked at Ambrose like he was something filthy.

"Dear gods," His stomach sank. "I hope he’s okay."

★★★★★

Gabriel pushed open the glass restaurant doors.

The quiet clatter of cutlery mixed with soft piano music as cool air washed over him.

He barely spared the elegant interior a glance.

His spatial awareness expanded instinctively, flowing through walls, private booths and every occupied table until it found the two signatures he was looking for.

His mother and her steady heartbeat. And his father’s calm but overly rigid breathing.

Gabriel released a slow breath before making his way deeper into the restaurant.

His mother spotted him first, her shoulders visibly tensing.

His father followed her gaze.

For exactly one second, nobody moved or spoke.

Then the older man shoved his chair back so violently it scraped across the tiled floor.

Several nearby diners looked over.

"What the hell," the old man barked, pointing directly at Gabriel, "is this fag doing here?"